Danse Macabre
by Hyperbali
Summary: Society has pinned species against species, for people fear what they do not understand. They have a mission to uphold; too much is at stake for them to give in to feelings. Too bad hearts aren't as easily convinced.
1. Her Beginning

**And we've returned for my second bout of fic! Inspired by the reviews left on 'A Hundred Little Instances'--thank you very much, by the way--I knew I wanted to write something much longer for Garrus x Fem!Shep. I really didn't know what to write, or how to begin; after a conversation with a friend, I decided I would try to go about this by picking out some inspiration from the instances.**

**This might go rather slow, but hopefully I can come up with ideas quickly! And of course, if anyone is interested in being a beta for me, feel free to ask.  
Worry not about Garrus--the next chapter will be from his point of view, I promise.**

**Mass Effect, Garrus, and Shepard are (c) to BioWare.  
Please enjoy!**

**

* * *

**

The first time she saw a turian, the moment was nothing less than sheer magic.

Of course, most of that could be accredited to the fact that she was a mere eleven years old at the time. To a young girl of such an age, anything dramatically unfamiliar to the norm could be magical. It was back on Mindoir, at the shipping ports of the main part of the colony. Her father's warnings not to go near the place did little to heed her curiosity and desire for exploration; after all, if her fifteen-year-old sister could visit the ports with her older friends, why couldn't she? So the girl had sneaked away to the towers and nestled herself behind a pile of crates, ready to see what could possibly be so amazing to warrant a need for caution.

Her answer came in the form of a trading ship; a rather small frigate, it still held a formidable number of workers. Her tiny eyes widened as she caught sight of some of them unloading boxes and carrying others back to their vessel. There were beautiful women with blue and purple skin, their hair oddly twisted at the backs of their heads; gigantic, two-legged lizards with mouths that stretched wide and far-set eyes beneath a massive hump; among all the overload of strange and wondrous things was a lone creature, taller than anything she'd ever seen. Its legs seemed to be broken backwards, angled in such a peculiar way, and its waist tapered off to rather sharp hips. The head was the most interesting part; mandibles flaring on either side of an almost turtle-like mouth, and then there were the piercing eyes and striking tattoos. Of course, she had no name to put to any of it, so all she could do was stare in awe. So great was her curiosity that she inadvertently poked her head out for a closer look, compromising her hiding spot.

All too soon, the creature's eyes flitted over to her, and remained there. A tiny gasp passed her lips--she was caught!--but her body was frozen in place, stuck by a mixture of fear and amazement. Even as it walked over to her, becoming larger as it came nearer, she could only tilt her head back to keep her eyes on it. Finally, the wondrous being stood just above her, looking down past the crates at the overly-curious little girl.

"A human child?" Its voice _captivated_ her; it flanged and nearly carried two tones, as opposed to anything she'd ever heard before, and it definitely sounded male. He tilted his head in curiosity, lowering a bit for a closer look at her. "I've never seen one quite as small as you before. What are you doing here?"

"....I...ah..." She was amazed she had the ability to speak at all, though she was still a long way from forming coherent sentences. Instead of trying harder to speak, she settled for continuing to stare up at him in wide-eyed disbelief. Salvation eventually came in the form of a gruff voice directed to the creature.

"Hey, what the hell are you doing?! We've still got crates to move here, and don't think I'm going to cover for your turian ass! ...What are you lookin' at?" A face appeared next to the 'turian'--it was a dockworker who sometimes went to work on the fields, she remembered, and he'd even come to her family's house with her father sometimes. "Well, well...what do we have here? A nosy little one? What're you doin' here, kid?"

"Do you know why a child is here?" There was that voice again, strong and powerful despite a distinct lack of volume. It frightened her, just a little.

"No, but I do know it's one of Shepard's girls. I'd recognize that crazy red hair anywhere." A calloused, dirty hand reached down to ruffle through rouge curls, and she instinctively flinched away from it. The movement solicited an amused laugh from the man as he pulled back away. "Just as stubborn as he is. What're you doin', huh? Your dad's gonna give you a real whuppin' if he finds out you're here."

"I...I just wanted to see!" She finally found her voice, though it was pathetically weak and a bit whining. Her nose wrinkled in distaste at herself before she pressed on. "Rileigh can come out here, so I should too! ...You're...you're not going to tell him I was here, right? Please..." Her pleading would fall on deaf ears, she was sure; if she did /anything/ against the rules, it was doubtless and inevitable her father would somehow figure out what happened. No, she didn't exactly relish getting back home and explaining why she hadn't been there sooner. Before the dockworker had time to respond, the turian spoke again.

"Seems odd to me that a man wouldn't allow his children to the ports. Were she a bit older, she'd be just at the age where we send our young to train for the military."

"Yeah, that's the thing..." The man shook his head, rubbing at his neck while making a face at the girl. "Her old man's got no patience for aliens...'specially not your kind. If he were here, he'd probably be screaming at you to get away." His words seemed to have an effect on the object of her fascination; his mandibles flared out and a hard look came to his eyes, which he directed down at her. She shivered and drew back into herself a little more; his angular features brought on a whole new danger to the look of annoyance. At the response, he seemed to soften and back off just a bit.

"...But...I don't see why." The phrase brought their attention fully; she felt a little strength build up when she talked, sure of what she was saying. "I mean, you're different, but...why is being different such a bad thing?" Silence greeted her; neither adult seemed quite sure what to say. "...What? W-why are you looking at me like that?"

"....Such a strange human," the turian finally stated. Something like a smile curved his mouth, and he nodded to her. "How odd, that someone from your race says something that makes the most sense to me. Maybe someday others might think in the same way."

"Doubt it," his companion answered matter-of-factly. "Now c'mon, we're not gettin' paid to stand around and humor some little girl. Later, kiddo!" He walked back in the direction he'd come without so much as a glance back, but the alien seemed to pause for a moment, as if to study her. Within a moment or so, he turned away as well, leaving her to her own devices.

The child sat back on her hands and continued to watch until the trading frigate had completed its work and flew back into the sky, taking the strange workers with it. She stayed there for a long time, reflecting over the new experience and thinking about home. Finally, someone else poked their head over the crates; much more familiar and comfortable, the teenage girl sighed in relief before putting on an expression of irritation.

"There you are! I've been looking for you for _hours_, Caelie." She reached her hand down to the younger girl, who gingerly took it and allowed herself to be helped to stand. "Come on, we have to get back home before Father does. For all he knows, you've been there with me all day."

"Rileigh...," the younger began as they made their way down the path towards their home and through the fields, "why does Dad hate them so much?"

"Hate who?"

"The...what did he say...the 'turians'?"

Her sister paused for a moment, looking thoughtful. After a few seconds of silence, she looked back down at Caelie, cautious hazel eyes meeting curious green.

"...Of course you wouldn't remember," she finally admitted, continuing their walk. "You were just three at the time. But back then, there was a...a fight. Sort of. We had just moved up here from Earth, you know, and it was a huge deal because we were meeting aliens for the first time. But all that talk of 'we come in peace' was absolute bullshit, compared with--"

"Bad word."

"Do you want me to explain what happened or not?!" Rileigh glared at her younger sister for a while until the latter pouted, insisting she go on. "Alright, fine. It was _crap_ compared with what really went down. Long story short, we made the turians angry, they attacked us, and we kicked their asses back. Then the Council stepped in, we got space ambassadors, and here we are."

"So Dad hates turians because we got them angry and they attacked? It sounds like self-defense to me."

"No, no...it's not that simple. That attack was totally unprovoked, Cae--we didn't do anything, they just decided to start beating us up. A lot of humans died because of that. They have a memorial now, you know, and then there's Armistice Day...don't you remember the fireworks last year?"

"But that's stupid! A lot of turians died too, right? I mean, it isn't right to say they were entirely at fault. It sounds like we both made bad decisions, so we should--...stop looking at me like that, I'm not dumb! How come you never listen to me?"

"You'll get it when you're older, Caelie. I promise." A hand reached over and softly ruffled her hair, which she accepted with a little hesitation. She knew better than to argue when Rileigh was getting all self-righteous. And at least she'd listened, as opposed to Dad--he probably would have just told her to go to her room and not have any dinner. "Now come on...I bet Mom's worried sick about you."

"Y...yeah." The girl nodded slightly, frowning as her sister pulled away to walk ahead. "When I'm older..."

* * *

Eighteen years later, with plenty of battles and broken memories under her belt, Caelie Shepard could definitely say she _felt _older, but the understanding had never come, even after hearing a million and a half reasons to hate anything remotely un-human. She shook her head a little and frowned, placing a gloved hand against her cheek. Why had she suddenly been thinking about that?

"Commander?" A male voice broke her chain of thought; she glanced over to see Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko looking at her with concern in his eyes. "Everything all right? You drifted off for a second..."

"Maybe she's still feeling the effects from that beacon," interjected her other companion, Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams. The tanned woman pursed her lips and tilted her head slightly, still a bit irritated from their encounter with the human Ambassador. She couldn't really blame her, as it had not been a pleasant experience. "It_ did _lift her into the air without touching her, and then there are those visions...I wouldn't be feeling too hot, either."

"It's my fault. If I hadn't gotten so close to it, the commander would never have--"

"_Hush_, Lieutenant." The woman came off a little harsher than she'd intended, but she'd already been listening to him apologize for the past six hours since she'd woken in the medical ward back on the Normandy. "I already told you, it isn't your fault. There's no point dwelling on it now, anyway. I just have a little headache...thinking about things. It'll be fine. And we have more pressing problems to take care of now."

More pressing problems was right. Ambassador Udina had_ not _been happy with the report she'd given from the mission on Eden Prime, but had sensed an opportunity. In the years since he'd taken the coveted government position, he was constantly shoving humanity's importance in the Citadel Council's faces, whenever he could; if there was even the slightest chance one of their precious Spectres had gone AWOL, it seemed as if he wanted the credit for exposing the traitor. Not that it was any of her business; galactic politics had never been too interesting, what with a penchant for species racism every politician seemed to carry.

Besides, it was about more than just petty arguments. This was quite possibly the fate of the galaxy--and of course, the backstabbing Saren, along with all those geth. She remembered reading about them in school, they hadn't been seen past the Perseus Veil in centuries. What was bringing them out now? What sort of omen did that represent for life as they knew it, both on the Citadel and off? The thought sent a chill down her spine; better she should meet the Council and spell out the danger immediately.

They walked along the Presidium in awkward silence, and she felt a little guilty for driving small conversation right out the proverbial window; she really hadn't meant to sound so annoyed. It was just--well, this whole thing _scared_ her, much more than she would ever care to admit. A big-time commander, possible candidate for the Spectres, one of the N-7 Elite; people expected her to be a strong role model for the Alliance, not some groveling little girl whining about 'the bad dreams'. Her thoughts were still a bit jumbled from the shock, but she worked to focus on the duties and tasks ahead of her. Within moments, the three stepped into the Citadel Tower's main glass elevator and were shut inside with the soft _whoosh_ of the compressed door.

As the elevator lifted up high above the ground, Caelie took a moment to admire the view; this was the first time she'd ever stepped on the Citadel before, and the sight was enough to take her mind from her problems, for even just a little while. From the barely-held gasps she could hear behind her, she figured she wasn't the only one to feel that way. Even with each of them captivated by the sight, their unease was quick to return; Williams was the first to speak her mind.

"The Council isn't going to ask any questions, are they?"

"I doubt it," Alenko responded, frowning a bit. "We've made our reports. Now we just have to trust Ambassador Udina."

"No we don't, sir." The chief didn't sound the least bit convinced; politics didn't rub her the right way, either. The commander spared a glance back at her as the sight of the Presidium gave way to the dark walls of the Tower surrounding them.

"I'm not very happy with him either, Williams, but the lieutenant is right. We're just soldiers, after all; it's his job to make sure the Council will listen, not ours." The words were pitiful, and she knew they wouldn't have convinced her, but her subordinate seemed to be willing to humor her.

"...Yes, ma'am." The conversation was cut short as the elevator slowed to a halt at the top floor of the Tower, opening up to the Council chambers. They made their way out of the limited space and walked across the floor, marching quietly and in time to one another.

Caelie was ever-impressed by the Citadel; decorated with fountains and shining walls, it seemed as if nothing was left to chance in the search for aesthetically pleasing surroundings. A few diplomats strolled along, pausing to converse with one another quietly; they mostly ignored the Alliance soldiers and proceeded about their business. Everything seemed to be falling right into place, so far--but then there were a pair of turians arguing just before the stairs to the Council meeting place. The one on the right seemed commanding, though she'd no idea just who he was; the way he carried himself gave off an air of authority. The one on the left was dressed in the standard C-Sec fare for turian officers; neither seemed to pay any attention to the approaching squad.

"Saren's hiding something...give me more time. Stall them!" His voice had an interesting allure, even if he was unabashedly angry; the commander quickly perked up when she heard him mention the name of the rogue Spectre. Pallin, on the other hand, didn't seem quite so taken.

"Stall the Council? Don't be ridiculous." The other shook his head, clearly displeased with the officer. He turned to leave, apparently deciding the conversation was not worth his effort. "Your investigation is over, Garrus."

His mandibles flaring, the officer glared at the retreating back of his superior before noticing he was not alone. He shook his head a bit and turned, walking over to greet them.

"Commander Shepard? Garrus Vakarian. I was the officer in charge of the C-Sec investigation into Saren." Despite being in a dark mood mere moments before, he had been quick to calm himself in a show of respect to the commander. She had to admit to being a little impressed.

"Who were you just talking to?"

"That was Executor Pallin. Head of Citadel Security...my _boss_," the turian added, distaste plain in his voice. "He'll be presenting my findings on Saren to the Council."

"Sounds like you really wanna bring him down." Caelie let a very small, reassuring smile curl her lips; he either didn't notice or had chosen to ignore it. Garrus crossed his arms and looked off to the side--a telltale gesture of an upset disposition, one she really hadn't expected to be coming from an officer.

"I don't trust him. Something about him rubs me the wrong way. But he's a _Spectre_, everything he touches is _classified_. I can't find any hard evidence." They were silent for the most brief of instants; her mind was racing with the new information before Alenko interrupted.

"I think the Council's ready for us, Commander." She nodded a bit to acknowledge him before looking at the turian again, as if to see if he would have anything to add. Instead, he looked nonchalant; their eyes met for the first time, and he held her gaze for a moment.

"Good luck, Shepard. Maybe they'll _listen_ to _you_." The commander frowned in response--he'd seemed pretty sullen when he said that, and who was she to blame--but apparently he had nothing more to add. With a sigh, she muttered to her comrades to follow, continuing her walk to meet with the Council. Captain Anderson was waiting for them; with a little exasperation, he took hold of her arm and guided her up the steps to the Council platform.

"The hearing's already started, come on." With his hand securely leading her up, she took the chance to look back over the vast array of benches and stairs below; off in the distance, she could see the officer headed back to the elevator for the Presidium. Just before directing her attention forward once more, she nodded a goodbye he would never see; it wasn't going to be the first time she greeted this 'Garrus Vakarian,' she just knew it.


	2. His Beginning

**Here we are with chapter two. Now...granted, this is a lot of conjecture on my part, considering not much information on Garrus is given during the game. Hopefully my ideas on his past will be at least a bit believable. Writing him makes me really work, it's kind of difficult...but still fun, all the same.**

**I don't know how long it will be before I actually get to the 'romance' part of this fic--and, to be honest, trying to figure out how I'm going to combine the two of them into a chapter instead of writing one for both of their perspectives is a little on the overwhelming side. I will try my best!**

**Mass Effect, Garrus and Shepard (c) BioWare.  
Please enjoy!**

**

* * *

**

The first time he saw a human, the moment was less than awe-inspiring.

To be completely honest, it had been the first time he'd seen one _in person_. Years of watching vids from his father and C-Sec back in Palaven had given him an idea of what they were like. After all, the Relay 314 Incident occurred only a year before he'd been born; meeting the thin-skinned creatures was inevitable. Just at the onset of his twelfth year, Aeusip decided his son would need a better idea of what Citadel space was like before he set off for the standard turian military training on his fifteenth birthday. So, with a heavy heart, he bid farewell to his mother and traveled across the galaxy to the Citadel.

The first few weeks on the space station were nothing if not overwhelming. Everywhere he looked, there was something or someone new to observe. After a long day of solving cases and generally being a home-grown hero (as he was wont to do, it seemed), his father would return to their apartment in the Wards and school the boy about many of the most basic lessons he would need over the years. In that small, well-kept space, he heard stories of the diplomatic asari and the secretive salarians; he learned of the clever ways of the volus, and the tenderly careful elcor.

"But Father," he interrupted one night, his curiosity having gotten the better of him. "What about humans? You haven't said much about them. What are they like?"

The older turian had shaken his head, mandibles twitching in irritation. He had flinched a bit in response; he always hated it when his father seemed disappointed.

"The less you know of them, the better. They are an aggressive and blunt species, Garrus...quick to barter, quick to cheat and lie. I'd trust one as far as I could throw one."

That was a bit unfair, he'd thought. Surely the humans couldn't have been _that _bad. The Relay Incident, as precarious has it had been for both sides, ended fairly quickly once the Council had gotten involved. If the humans could understand and listen to such reason, then maybe they weren't as awful as his father seemed to think they were.

Soon afterward, he met a man named Harkin and understood just why Aeusip had been so resolute.

He had been standing beside the elevator to the docking bays inside C-Sec headquarters, waiting for his father to finish up his work for the day so they could take a walk around the Presidium. Standard conversation came up; some of the other officers recognized him and nodded their hellos, which he returned in kind. The sound of a few soft 'thuds' interrupted his bored vigil; glancing behind him, he could see someone stumbling up the stairs from the Wards elevator. The sight shocked him; it was a human, a live one, in the flesh. The man looked _odd_, somehow, though he supposed that was just his unfamiliarity with his species' anatomy. Soft, pudgy-looking skin covered up with a blue uniform; a small head with huge eyes, a dusting of hair, and--what were they?--a protruding nose and swollen lips. The chance to finally meet one in person sent him into a flurry; quickly, he made his way to stand at the human's side.

"H-hello," he managed to stutter before mentally cursing himself and trying again. He'd only just begun to learn human languages; he stuck to his regular turian dialect and hoped their electronic translators would do the work for him. "You...you're a human. I've never met one before. I'd always wondered...a-anyway, I just wanted to know..."

His voice died out, his attempt to make conversation shaken by the slow, almost uncontrollable actions of the person beside him. The man swayed a little and looked down at him from over his nose, sneering a little. Expressions made by humans were just so _severe_, it almost sickened him to see the way his lips curled over yellowed teeth.

"...Huh." The officer finally managed; it had come out as more of a grunt than an actual word. "So...you're Vakarian's little....brat. Can tell by th' markings..on your face. 'S ridiculous..." His words were slurred; clearly something was wrong with him. The thought didn't relieve the young turian's sudden feeling of insult and irritation. His colony tattoos weren't _ridiculous_! "Never seen one...small as you. Hehehe...a tiny turian...heh, that's a laugh..."

"Th-that isn't...ugh.." He moved to cover his nose, holding back a fit of nausea; the man's breath was absolutely rancid with the stench of alcohol and meat. C-Sec was supposed to be a place of honor and small-time heroics--if this man was the best humanity had to offer, he definitely had an idea of just why his father hadn't been so keen to talk about them. He was jolted from his attempts to not gag by an arm roughly grabbing him around the back. The human had moved in close, starting to laugh raucously.

"So how 'bout it, kid...y' look like you're old enough to go an' see a bit of Chora's Den. Maybe the dancers might even be willing to teach ya a few tricks, if you're nice to 'em...c'mon, I gotta go on break anyway."

"N-no, that's alright. I'll stay...here...and wait for..." His repeated pulls away from the officer did nothing; the man seemed intent on taking him exactly where he didn't want to go. His father had warned him about Chora's Den: a filthy, seedy place filled with glaring red lights and asari who'd long since learned the effects their bodies could have on the males of other species. Oh no, he _definitely _didn't want to go there, especially with this pathetic excuse of a human.

Unfortunately, even with his two-toed feet digging into the smooth floor beneath him, he found himself being dragged off to the elevators. He continued his struggle, looking wildly around at the other officers; why wasn't anyone helping him? What did he have to do to get their attention? Grunting, he opened his mouth to call out for help--

"_HARKIN!_"

The booming voice of Aeusip Vakarian disturbed the relative quiet of the C-Sec lobby, halting any motion in the room. He stood at the entrance to the main offices, an indefinitely intimidating turian at his prime of strength and prowess. No, he didn't look pleased, even one little bit; for once in his short life, Garrus was incredibly grateful for the expression on his father's face. The human, Harkin, straightened up a little but failed to remove his arm from the boy's back. With a shrug and a snort, he looked up at the angry officer. Either he was too inebriated or simply didn't care about the tension; his captive couldn't believe anyone could look his father right in the face and not even shudder when he was so angry.

"What d'you want, Vakarian? Can't ya see I'm just tryin' to...educate the next generation on a few key things? He's gonna hafta learn this crap eventually...and it certainly ain't gonna be from you."

"What I can _see_ is that you are currently in the midst of kidnapping my son, Harkin!" The turian swept across the room in merely three or four steps; with a great and mildly frightening strength, he yanked Garrus away from the human and put the boy out of harm's way behind him. "What the hell are you thinking?! He's _twelve_! I don't want you soiling his mind with your gross tendencies!"

"'Gross tendencies'? That's a great big goddamn laugh...'m a perfectly well-adjusted human being! It's all a' you who are...ugh..." Harkin's rant was interrupted by his own inadvertent stumbling; he grabbed onto a wall to keep his balance and bent over at his stomach, taking a few deep breaths. Aesip shook his head and flared his mandibles in disgust.

"You're a disgrace, Harkin. Be assured I _will_ be telling Executor Ozedan about this. And don't you dare lay a hand on my son again, you hear me?" He turned and rested a gentle hand on Garrus' back, steering him up to the elevator for the Presidium. "Let's go--I'm done for the evening. You wanted to take that walk, right?"

"Er..yeah..." As the windowed door shut behind them, he chanced a glance back at the human; he was met with a heady glare and an expression sure to haunt him for a couple of nights. Shuddering, he quickly turned his face away and stared at a wall until they were well above the lobby.

The slow-moving elevator was filled with an uncomfortable silence; finally, the younger turian made a disgruntled sound and crossed his arms, glaring at the door.

"Now I get it, Father. Why you don't like humans. They're a...they're pathetic. If they're all like him, they can all just go--"

"_No_, Garrus," Aeusip interrupted softly. He gently patted his son on the back and shook his head. "They're not all like Harkin."

"But...the other night, you were talking about how--"

"I'm aware of that. But I've been thinking about what I said...I wasn't entirely fair when I told you about humans. Yes, as a whole, they are very aggressive and blunt...but then, the asari as a whole are a rather diplomatic and well-spoken species. You've seen what some of them are capable of."

Garrus stared up at his paternal relation, stunned out of words. A few moments passed before he was able to speak again.

"...I...I don't understand, Father." The door slowly slid open in two parts as they reached the Presidium. With a sigh, his father lightly touched the top of his head and offered a tired smile.

"You'll get it when you're older, Garrus. I promise..." He nodded a bit, almost as if more to himself than the younger turian, and stepped out into the brightly lit pathways of the Presidium. "Come along, now. You'll have to tell me of your studies today."

He continued to stare out, even as his father looked at him expectantly. With a quick shake of his head and a disgruntled sigh, Garrus followed him out, keeping his gaze directed downward.

"Sure. When I'm older."

* * *

Thirteen years later, an incredibly fatigued Garrus Vakarian opened his eyes and looked at the mountain of paperwork sitting on his desk. He winced a bit, lowering the intensity of the visor over his left eye; cursing softly, he shuffled through his files. Clearly he was being overworked--taking a few moments for 'resting himself' at work had never been such a problem. Ever since their latest butting of heads, Executor Pallin had taken it upon himself to shove almost every single inane and irritating investigation on the officer. It had gotten so bad that he was daydreaming about _Harkin_; the idiot was probably sitting down at Chora's Den, working into his second month of suspension from security detail. At least a few good things happened every now and again.

A pile of work was shoved off into the unmarked 'deal with this crap later' side of the desk; another to the 'deal with this right this minute' pile on the other side. Sighing, he stretched his back and hunched back down over, settling down to continue burning his eyes with the orange glow of his computer. Just a few more hours and he could head back to his apartment for some well-deserved sleep. At least it would give him relief and an attempt to ward away any cramps from staying with his limbs. The monotony was soon broken by a quick, hurried knock on the door to his office.

It opened with a soft _hsshh_ and one of the asari officers hurried in, looking a bit harried. He recognized her from the break room and sat up a little, wondering why she was coming in to speak with him. And for that matter, why did she look so panicked?

"Garrus," she began with a huff, dropping her hands onto the desk and panting. "D-direct orders..from Executor Pallin..." Taking a deep gulp of air, she seemed to steady a bit; it looked as if she'd run all the way down from Pallin's office in the Embassies. "You've got a new investigation...top-priority, everything else goes on the back burner. Very important."

"Is that so," he replied a bit stiffly, folding his fingers together beneath his chin, brushing his mandibles slightly. "What could he want from me now? I thought he still wasn't going to bother speaking with me for another week. Seems odd for him to go about breaking his stride."

"I don't know." The asari shook her head, apparently unable to sense the sarcasm in the turian's voice or ignoring it in favor of more pressing matters. "But we just received direct orders from the Council. Apparently something went awry on that Normandy ship...and Pallin wants _you _to take care of it."

"The Normandy...that's the joint turian-human manufactured ship that just went out. State of the art." She nodded slightly, trying to encourage him to hurry. "So why is he getting me involved with this if it's so important?"

"I...I heard it has to do with the Spectres, if that helps." Garrus quickly looked up, eyes blazing; the Spectres? He held out his hand to take the file, a new sense of duty and urgency about him. With some relief, the officer handed the file over and nodded a goodbye before hurrying out of the room, letting the door close behind her.

The file was opened and he quickly pored over it; he'd had a feeling about the contents. The Spectres were an enigmatic group, and no one knew that much about them. Even after denying the chance to go into special training and join their ranks (forced to deny, he noted ruefully), he'd been more than curious about their activities. Very light research on the matter turned up a few reports about Spectres taking the law into their own hands, doing things as they pleased without bothering to worry about the repercussions. Among the most notorious of those Spectres was a turian named Saren.

Inside the file was a set of reports collected by a select group of Alliance soldiers; among the three, the most comprehensive seemed to have been made by one 'Commander Shepard'. He recognized the name, though he couldn't really remember why. Carefully turning to it, he read an interesting story: the Normandy had been sent out to observe Eden Prime after rumors began of a Prothean beacon surfacing on the colony. The commander was assigned as the XO to Captain Anderson, and the Spectre Nihlus had tagged along.

He vaguely remembered rumors of the possibility of a human Spectre--that's where he'd heard the name, that was right--as he pressed on. The content shocked him; the colony had been attacked by geth, led by none other than _Saren_. Eyewitness testimony from a dockworker claimed Saren had shot Nihlus in the back of the head and attempted to destroy Eden Prime. Shepard and the rest of the squad managed to stop the offenders, but the beacon had apparently burned visions into the commander's mind and promptly exploded.

Garrus slid back in his seat, staring at the ceiling in disbelief. He'd always had a feeling that Saren was going to do something truly heinous, but this--this went beyond that. The report all but confirmed his belief in the beginning of something huge and dangerous. He noticed a note pinned to the edge of the file--Pallin had _dutifully_ told him the Normandy was due to arrive at the Citadel in less than six hours to hold a meeting with the Council. And he was supposed to have enough evidence to prove the Spectre as a traitor by the time the humans arrived.

"Damn!" The officer quickly stood, grabbing the file and hurrying out of his office. Six hours wasn't going to be enough time for a full-fledged investigation, especially not for the kind of information the Council wanted him to find. But he was going to give his best shot at it; hell, they'd get more than his best shot. This was too big to waste time with.

About six hours later (or so), the search had turned up close to nothing. With an annoyed growl, he slammed a fist against the counter he'd been occupying--which, unfortunately, had also been where a salarian C-Sec officer was fixing up his coffee. Garrus glared at the computer giving him yet another ACCESS DENIED message; there was no way he'd be getting anywhere if he didn't have the clearance to check on Saren's Spectre activities. Luckily, a lead had turned up; after sending out questions to a few of his contacts on the Citadel, the doctor in charge of the medical bay in the Wards replied she might have information pertaining to his investigation.

"Hey, Garrus..." The salarian interrupted, wiping hot coffee from his shirt and looking more than a little perturbed. "The executor says he wants to see you up in the Council chambers in the tower. Sounds like he wants the results of whatever you're working on..."

"What?! But--I'm not finished yet!"

"_Not _my problem. You might want to hurry, though. He said something about the humans arriving..."

Sighing, the turian made his way out of C-Sec and trekked up to the Citadel Tower, not bothering to take a look at the bright surroundings of the Presidium as he moved. His mind was filled with hurried thoughts and emotions; he definitely needed more time to sort out his work if the Council were going to see his results. The humans were just going to have to wait for a little while longer; he was just on the verge of something, he knew it. As the elevator opened into the chambers, he stepped out and headed down the hallway. Surprise, surprise--Executor Pallin was waiting for him, tense as always.

"Well, Garrus." He didn't even attempt a hello; one of the things that seemed to scratch him in just the wrong way in regards to his boss. Sometimes he wondered if Pallin was as insufferable as possible to him on purpose. Of course, he couldn't speak out against it; as an officer, he had to abide by the rules. "Let me see what you've come up with. The meeting's about to begin any minute."

"That's...that's just it. I'm not quite done yet. I need to work on it a little bit more...I know I'm right on the verge of something." As expected, the executor shook his head, obviously disappointed. But what was he going to expect from a mere six hours of work?

"No...there's no more time. I can't wait any longer, I have to take what you've got now."

"But...!" The officer twitched, barely able to contain his anger. "Saren's hiding something...give me more time. Stall them!"

"Stall the Council? Don't be ridiculous." And then he said something that nearly ripped him in half; the worst part was he'd thrown it over his shoulder, as if the matter meant absolutely nothing. "Your investigation is over, Garrus." For a brief moment, the officer felt extremely tempted to pull him right back and tell him exactly what he thought, but it was pointless. Nothing he could do or say would change Pallin's mind. He twitched again--horrible habit--and glared after the retreating turian before noticing he was not alone.

He turned his head slightly, eyes alighting on three humans standing before him, all apparently curious about the argument they'd just witnessed. They were the squad from Eden Prime, he could tell, but where was Commander Shepard? Then, with a sudden realization that felt something like a punch to the gut, he realized the female in the middle _was_ Shepard.

Somehow he'd been expecting some rough-and-tumble soldier with unshaven stubble and a wicked gleam to his eyes--an impression based on a few military vids he'd watched--but there stood a young and vulnerable-looking human woman. Red hair cropped shortly to her head, bright green eyes, and _freckles_--tons of them--all over her face. There was a long scar stretched across her features, but it didn't look right against her skin. Oh, who was he kidding; _she _didn't look right in that armor. What were the humans thinking, sending someone so small into the battlefield? He hesitated only a moment before stepping forward to greet them.

"Commander Shepard?" A quick, slight nod confirmed his suspicion. "Garrus Vakarian. I was the officer in charge of the C-Sec investigation into Saren." At least the military training of his youth had stuck with him; he'd been quick to be respectful to her, despite his inclination to stare in disbelief.

"Who were you just talking to?"

"That was Executor Pallin. Head of Citadel Security...my _boss_," he noted with disdain. "He'll be presenting my findings on Saren to the Council." _What little of it there is, in any case._

"Sounds like you really wanna bring him down." A very small smile curved the commander's lips, and it was a little distracting; he concentrated on ignoring it. There were more important things to deal with than his fascination of human expressions.

"I don't trust him. But he's a _Spectre_, everything he touches is _classified_. I can't find any hard evidence." The information seemed to set off something in the woman; her eyes widened and she seemed thoughtful for a moment.

"I think the Council's ready for us, Commander," the male to her right interrupted. Garrus nodded slightly; maybe they would have a better chance at dealing with the Council directly.

"Good luck, Shepard. Maybe they'll _listen_ to _you_." He hadn't meant to sound so haughty, but somehow it came out that way; clearly the woman had noticed, judging by the frown she responded with. She seemed almost expectant, like she wanted him to say more; the turian took the moment to look directly into her eyes. He was a little surprised; she was determined, but curious. He'd never seen a human look that way before. There was no time to dwell on it; she broke their gaze and motioned for her subordinates to head to the meeting.

He watched them walk up the stairs to meet with the Council, but mostly kept his attention on Commander Shepard. She looked like she could be a fairly headstrong and persuasive human; he hoped dearly she would be able to talk some sense into the people expected to run their lives for them. Shaking his head, he finally turned and headed back to the elevator for the Presidium; he had a doctor to see.

With any luck, it wouldn't be the last time he would greet Shepard.


End file.
